Chapter 1

Chapter One

Damon

Two greasy cheeseburgers, a bottle of whiskey, three hot showers, and fifteen hours of uninterrupted sleep later, I was ready.

Throwing on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a hoodie I'd picked up at the local goodwill, I threw the rest of my scant belongings into a worn, nearly paper-thin duffel I'd also gotten there, left the keycard for my dingy hotel room on the dresser, and locked the door behind me. I didn't plan to come back.

I'd waited until nightfall, but I still pulled the hood of my hoodie up to block my face as I walked along the side of the highway. Three Rivers was still a small town, and I didn't want anyone to recognize me. I didn't need word getting out that I was back. I could just imagine how that would go over.

Mothers, hide your daughters. The town bad boy is back to terrorize the streets of Three Rivers once more.

That's what they'd say. That's what they'd always said.

I'd never been that bad, though. Not actually. And there was only one girl I cared about, and she didn't have a mother.

My chest went tight as I crossed the main highway intersection and turned onto First Street, finally able to breathe. I could take backroads the rest of the way to her house.

Her.

Sabrina Jane Crosby.

If I was the town bad boy, she was the angel to my devil. The girl everyone wanted. Head cheerleader. Straight-A student. Choir lead with the voice of an angel. Star in every school production from 4th grade on. She'd had everything, except of course for loving parents. A father that didn't get drunk and knock her around, all while treating her like his own personal meal ticket.

As far as I'd been concerned, though, she hadn't needed loving parents. She'd had me. She didn't need a father. I'd been her Daddy. I would have done anything for her.

Correction: I had done anything for her.

And I'd gone to jail for it. I'd known that was the risk. But I'd been young and stupid enough to think she'd be writing me letters, coming to visit, and waiting for me when I got out. Forever and always no matter what, we'd vowed.

And I'd believed it. Part of it had been my inner hopeless romantic, but the other part was her swearing she would always be mine.

Ha. She lied. She hadn't even shown up at the courthouse for sentencing. I hadn't seen her in over six years.

But I would tonight. Tonight, Sabrina would pay for what she'd done. She'd answer for how she abandoned me, kicking me when I was down.

Tonight, Daddy was coming home.

* * *

Sabrina

Karma. That has to be the explanation, I thought as I stared in the cracked bathroom mirror in the small depression-era shoebox home I'd grown up in. A house I swore I'd never come back to. And yet here I was. Running from the glitz and glamor of the Hollywood life I'd once wanted more than anything.

Back to the pit of Small Town, USA.

Back to the town that had broken my heart. Or maybe I had broken its heart. I'd certainly broken his heart.

Him.

Damon Micheal James. Anybody with a first name for a last name should come with a warning label. Trouble Ahead.

Maybe he had come with a warning label. Enough people had certainly warned me. Friends. Teachers. Coaches. Neighbors. The town busybodies.

Not that I'd cared. From the moment I'd met him, Damon Micheal James had been the only boy for me. I'd known it even back then.

Eventually, people stopped warning me and just accepted that maybe it was meant to be.

We both thought it had been.

We'd planned to run away together. Not just planned, but actually put that plan into action. Money saved, bags packed… all we had to do was go.

He'd never made it.

Instead he'd gotten arrested, and with my dad pissed as hell that I'd not been home for two days, I had no real choice left.

I took the money we'd saved and went to LA without him.

And until recently, I hadn't regretted it. I'd done just fine for myself.

In Hollywood, I was what they called a triple threat. I could act, sing, and dance. The blonde hair, big tits and tiny waist didn't hurt either.

My career had been launched from one fateful audition—the stereotypical lucky break—and it had gone perfectly from there. I'd reinvented myself. A whole new name, a whole new life, a whole new identity.

But the only person I'd been truly fooling was myself.

The real story had made headlines. Big, fat splashy ones.

America's Sweetheart—America's Fake

Triple Threat from the Wrong Side of The Tracks

Sabrina Made It Big, But Has Her Past Caught Up With Her?

Those were the headlines plastered all over every newsstand tabloid and every social media site this week.

I knew as far as scandals went, it was a minor one. What they considered a slow news week. Compared to secret affairs, mysterious illnesses, rehab stints, trips to jail, and assault accusations, this was nothing. But it was big to me. All the disgraceful truths about my life I'd kept hidden splashed across every tabloid for all the world to see.

And if you looked past the headlines, it only got worse. The sordid details of my past life had been discussed in great agonizing detail. Complete with pictures. Receipts as they called them these days. How I'd been the child of drug addicts. How my dad had abused me. How I'd run from him, into the arms of the town bad boy. How I'd been planning to run away with said bad boy, when he was caught with a trunk full of drugs and thrown in prison. How I'd left my hometown and never looked back. Not even for the man I'd once loved.

And when it had all come out, I did the only thing I was actually good at. I ran.

Back to Three Rivers. Back to this ass-backward, scandal-ridden hillbilly town. Back to my Father's house—the one I hadn't been able to bring myself to get rid of after he'd died.

I'd told myself that it was only because they'd never find me here, but let's be real—they probably already had the address. I'd wake up in the morning to find them camped out on the lawn waiting for a glimpse of the just-barely-above-trailer-park trash.

It was a temporary fix. A hideout while I licked my wounds and recovered from the sordid trip down memory lane I'd been forced to take.

Eventually, probably soon, I'd go back. I had to. After all, I'd given up everything to get where I was. I couldn't throw it all away because of one stupid not-even-that-big scandal. I'd just always worked so hard to leave my past behind me, to never talk about who I was before I was famous or where I was from.

There were scripts to read, shows to perform, events to attend, and a wedding to plan. Not that I was currently answering calls from my agent, manager or wedding planner. Because even though my life felt like it was falling apart, I still had him.

Him.

Fin ‘Phineas' Desmond Sterling.

The only good thing I'd brought with me from this fucked-up town.

He'd be here any minute. He'd been in NY when the story broke. But he was on his way, and I couldn't wait to fall in his arms and let him make everything right.

Just the thought of Fin made me feel better. Forcing a smile I didn't quite feel, I blew my nose, threw the tissue in the old, stained, toilet bowl, and dug in my designer purse for my makeup bag. Fresh lipstick, blush, and mascara later, I almost didn't even look like I'd been crying my eyes out for the past two hours.

I dug around in drawers and cabinets until I found some candles and matches and lit them, trying desperately for an air of romantic ambiance in this shithole.

After wetting an old rag and dusting off of every surface, I grabbed my perfume from my luggage and walked around, spritzing the air liberally, until the mildew smell was masked by lilac, citrus and vanilla.

It barely made a difference, but a little effort was better than none, and Fin would appreciate it.

If Damon was the boy mothers warned their daughters about, Finn was the boy they dreamed about their daughters marrying. Unlike Damon and me, Finn had not been from the wrong side of the tracks.

He'd grown up in the mansion on top of the hill, but you'd never know it by the way he acted. He's always wanted nothing to do with the other rich kids in town.

Instead, he'd befriended the new kid in the three-sizes-too-big leather jacket, ripped jeans and stained t-shirt. Instead, he'd vowed to always protect the girl who hid bruises behind her smile, her perfect report card and her many talents.

Fin had been our best friend, and when Damon broke my heart, it was Finn who stuck around to pick up the pieces.